


Feral Collision

by Dark_Frejya



Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom, Sand Castle (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barebacking, Coach AU, Coaches, College, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Forbidden Love, Inappropriate Behavior, Reader-Insert, Sex, Taboo, Vaginal Fingering, pounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Frejya/pseuds/Dark_Frejya
Summary: After quitting the military, Captain Syverson began working at your university as the coach of the football team. You hardly ever crossed path with him, until an err in time set you on a collision course.
Relationships: Captain Syverson (Sand Castle) & Reader, Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)/Reader, Captain Syverson/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Feral Collision

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sand Castle or Captain Syverson.

Everybody knew Coach Sy. 

A man wider than a door with bulging arms and thighs thicker than tree trunks. The bulky bastard was in charge of coaching the uni’s football team, and he was as tough as they come. 

The members of the football team hated, loved, and respected him at the same time. The coach was carved out of stone, led a no-bullshit policy, and rode their asses to hell and back; but then again the team never lost a match.

Rumour had it that Syverson used to be a military captain back when he was younger and well, he never denied it. The scars on his face kindly gave it away and there was a hint of a unit tattoo peeking out under the sleeve of his metal band t-shirt. Often you found yourself trying to detect what it was but then flushed and looked away as he caught you staring. 

It’s not like you were the first. Coach Sy is a popular subject of discussion among the ladies (and some of the men, too). Most of the chatter revolved around the imposing size of the bulge in his shorts and attempts to detect how large it was. They called him “Coach BDE” and giggled about how him being older must make him really experienced.

You never partook in the gossip, but even though you never exchanged a single word with him, many nights you lied awake, imagining him running his skilled hands down your body while whispering dirty little words in your ear in his rich southern accent. Syverson was more than a decade older yet you couldn’t deny it turned you on.

But that was just a fantasy that you were allowed to have. 

~*~

The autumn breeze wafted the scent of dry leaves as evening crept away and night inched closer. You stayed late at the campus library. The halls long cleared out and the concept of time lost on you when you realised it was already 10:30 pm. Collecting your bag and science books you rushed out, crossing the yard in a rush. The ominous trees surrounding the university looked like looming figures in the dark of night. 

Wearing a short plaid skirt suddenly made you feel over-exposed. 

Hugging your bag protectively, you began running and looked back when you crashed into someone’s chest and lost your balance. Knees down on the floor, you squealed with panic. 

“Easy there,” a gruff, low voice greeted you, his southern accent caressing the shell of your ears melodically. 

There was no question on who that was.

Arms crossed over his husky chest, the coach peered down at you with a hint of smile crisping his face; but his grin quickly died. Gingerly, he crouched down and hovered close. A loud, embarrassing hiss escaped your throat as his thumb stroked over your knee, his stare far too close than what you’d ever dreamt it would be.

Words couldn’t describe how beautiful Sy was. His eyes were deep like the arctic ocean, flowing with different shades of blue while one of them was flawed with a tint of brown that only made him more interesting. His cheeks were profound and beneath that thick messy beard, you detected succulent lips that begged to be kissed.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, pulling you back into the moment. It was only then that you noticed the nasty bleeding gash that covered your knee and the stinging pain instantly surged through.

“Umm… it’s… yeah,” you answered awkwardly, the rise and heavy beating in your chest making it harder to talk properly, let alone breathe. And as if you weren’t embarrassed enough, your leg twitched and visibly shook beneath his touch, making it quite obvious how vulnerable and feverish you were.

Sy flicked his tongue over his upper lip, observing the injury. But then his eyes wandered further, noticing a hint of your white cotton panties as you sat - legs spread and the skirt huddled up your thighs. 

The blaze in your cheeks was inevitable by that point. 

“Better have that looked at,” he mentioned, “can you walk?”

Still struck by the fall and bemused by the meaning of his words, you shook your head in confusion. You hardly mustered a coherent response when you were suddenly up in the air and safely secured in his steady arms.

A yelp pushed out of your mouth which he ignored as he carried you back into campus the way a groom carries his bride. 

“Coach, there’s no need!” You heard yourself call with alarm, though despite your protest it was impossible to ignore how warm and safe it felt to be in the arms of a man who exuded authority and discipline. 

A mix of spicy cologne and hardworking sweat masked your senses as he strode through the silent halls with ease and chuckled, his dry laughter and heavy steps both echoed between the white walls as he led you to the nurse’s office. 

“I carried men in the desert, you weigh nothin’, doll.” 

But it wasn’t him you were worried about. It was the way your entire body trembled against his and how sticky the little wet triangle patch in your panties was. Gosh, if any of the other girls heard this tale you’d be the talk of the campus for years to follow.

Syverson kicked the door open and carefully sat you on the examination bed, letting your legs dangle while he turned to switch the light on and began scrambling through the cabinets. The big man took the entire space within the room, making the cream-coloured cabinets look puny against his huge hands as he browsed through them one by one. He hummed a song to himself while searching for items, which in a way made him appear less intimidating than what people believed him to be. 

After all, his daily routine consisted of barking the most degrading commands at his team while sipping some black coffee and venturing through the corridors with a heavy frown, not speaking to anyone. 

But he was anything but angry at the moment, you realised. He was trying to make you feel relaxed. Still, his military and professional status dwarfed you into a little girl, clinging onto the books and stylish student bag with anxiety. 

“Is that… Slayer?…” You dared to ask as your brain picked up the tune.

Holding some gauze, alcohol solution, and an antiseptic ointment, he turned toward you and grinned widely before grabbing the nurse’s chair and dragging it toward the bed. 

“You’re a metalhead, darlin’?” 

“Somewhat,” you answered and gaped at him, secretly hoping that you made a good impression. 

The entire chair squeaked beneath his weight as he sat down and laid the medical supplies right next to you. Your heart was racing and your legs began to jitter, quaking as they hung from the edge. It was noticeable to him of course, and you were certain by then that he **knew** the effect he had on you and loved every single moment of it.

There was a slanted grin on his face as his eyes cut into yours for a split second, then breaking into a knowing glare before he lowered them to your wound and opened the bottle of medical alcohol.

“This is gonna sting,” he warned. The pungent odour of alcohol filled the room, and for some reason, the arousal peaked within your mind, associating the scent with some sort of sexual awakening. It turned even more profound as Sy wiped the drenched gauze over your bleeding injury to disinfect it.

The pain indeed stung. Your hand accidentally snapped to his shoulder and squeezed the hard muscle while you winced in pain. Feeling your nails digging into his flesh, Sy’s smirk only widened. He discarded the soiled gauze into the trash bin and reached for the ointment.

As the pain dulled out, your hand was still clutched around his shoulder. 

Oh how you wished the ground would take you right now. 

“I’m sorr…”

“Hold onto me, it’s fine,” Sy replied and next reached for the ointment, “this one’s gonna tingle though.”

He crooked his eyebrow playfully and then squirted the white paste on your kneecap and rolled his thumb over, gently massaging it into your open wound. Biting back a moan that begged to escape the cage of your lips, it hardly resonated in your mind until now how close he was. Blond freckles peppered his nose under the tanned skin and a few scars decorated his brow with glory. 

It made you wonder about the things he saw as a military captain.

Continuing your discreet investigation, you couldn’t help but let your curious eyes glide down his thick body, impressed by every sinew and muscle and the way his body flexed as he moved his arm. You knew you shouldn’t stare; it was forbidden, but it was only human to sin. 

Your eyes dropped to the large, apparent bulge in his pants.

“You’re starin’, honey.”

His voice shook you in an instant, the fever hitting your brow and covering it with a sheet of glistening sweat.

“Like what you see?” 

Darkness veiled his beautiful eyes as he tilted his head to meet your curious, famished stare. Noticing the way he sucked onto his bottom lip, you wondered if he could smell the thick elixir that coated your little sleek as you sat elevated with your legs spread and your bare knee captured by his hand. 

Uncertain if it was the alcohol, his barbaric musk, or the poignant sense of longing, but boldness edged your tongue.

“Don’t act like you don’t know how handsome you are, Coach Syverson.”

His glance remained stoic, his eyes blinking for a moment. But while the beating thundered in your ears, you knew your words had an effect as his thumb began to draw circles over your knee.

“I think I might be too old for you,” he paused, his glance trailing over your face still showing no emotion. Yet the air in the room grew thick. ”Shouldn’t you be with a boy your age?” 

“Guys my age don’t know how to treat me,” you replied, swallowing the lump on your throat and staring at him deeply.

Sy lingered, his eyes burrowing into your skull.

“You are speaking to a member of the faculty here,” he chided you gently, his hand climbing slightly further, his fingers grazing over your inner thigh. “Are you going to get me into trouble?” 

Your lips fell open, words lost somewhere in the void that was your brain. Anticipation grew as Sy remained silent though his slippery tongue darted over the plush of his bottom lip.

“If anything were to happen here, it would be very wrong,” his voice dropped, his gaze never leaving yours and his fingers travelling further up.

“I could lose my job…”

“And I’ll be the slut who got the loveable coach Sy fired,” you continued, allowing yourself a small playful grin.

“They’ll remember me as the coach who fucked a young student…”

His fingers crept closer to the welcoming heat between your thighs and on instinct, your legs clamped shut around them and your hands locked around his shoulders as you gasped with shock. Slow and sensual he ran the pads of his fingers over the soaked spot in your panties, his mouth now slightly parted into a curious grin.

“You better be on the pill,” he warned and slid your panties aside, allowing his middle finger to venture between the gates of your blooming garden, and push inside.

You slammed your eyes shut and bucked your hips, legs quaking as he skilfully curled his long, hard-working digit inside you and stroked all the right places. 

“Y… yes.. I’m covered,” you drawled a shaky breath, swaying yourself to the slow, tidal pace he coaxed you into.

This might as well be a dream; maybe in your fall you hit your head rather than your knee because you couldn’t believe this was reality, and if so, it was a bad, no, a **_terrible_** idea. 

Yet there was no way in hell you were to leave this room without having big Coach Sy fuck your brains out.

“And you’re gonna be a good girl, and keep this a secret, right?” He asked, drawing the tip of his finger back and forth and pressing his thumb over the shy little pearl. Power and control danced on his face, gratification beaming on the blue haze of his glare as he manipulated you to his will.

The most sinful moans broke through your mouth, filling the little room. Spread wide open, you shoved against the stroke of his hand and then choked over his forearm, riding his finger, clenching, pulsating desperately for release. 

“I’m a good…good girl, sir,” the words merely spilt from your mouth and your spine coiled back as a knot tight within your gut began to stretch further. Leaning close, Sy cooed and licked the shell of your ear, bringing you to the edge of your pleasure, your skin tingling in pre-orgasmic chill when he suddenly paused and held his finger knuckle-deep. 

The chair screeched on the floor as he jumped to stand. Intimidating more than ever, the large, burly man stood over you while his finger was still tucked within your wet core. Eyes piercing into yours dangerously, he wrapped a hand around your throat and hauled you up, slamming your lips against his. 

Crying out with surprise, you unwillingly let him steal a deep, erotic kiss. His preying tongue danced over yours, tasting of coffee and honeyed whiskey. Coarse and thick, his beard left your skin prickling and all the while, his finger still explored your silken walls, bringing you close yet pulling back as he felt your climax drawing close. This was torture, he was playing with you the way a feline predator plays with its victim. 

Though your frustration made you want to scream at him, his brooding energy reduced you to mewls and tears.

Flames were rising in your chest, depleting all your oxygen as his hot mouth ravaged yours like a hungry vulture; air continued to grow shallow, dwindling down as his hand began to press around your neck. 

He broke from your lips and gave a sinister grin to the pout on your face.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered hoarsely and his head tipped down, gesturing to the enormous sticking bulge in his khaki shorts. Peering below you noticed the outlines of his cock straining against the fabric and something in your belly immediately stirred with hunger.

Your rounded eyes glanced back at him with need and you nodded obediently, “Please!” 

Coach Sy flashed his fangs into a Cheshire grin, his cut cheeks rounding with arrogance. “Please what, doll?”

“Please, sir, please fuck me!” 

Your pathetic pleas did not go unanswered. Tightening his hand around your neck, he plundered your mouth for the second time, his kiss now aggressive and fiery, leaving your chin and your lips swollen and stinging as your nerves simmered beneath his rough mouth and coarse whiskers of his face.

His taste was divine but as his hand withdrew from your pussy and the pull of his zipper ripped into the room, you battled his lips off and curiously stared down to see if he was just as large as the girls in class wondered.

“Holy shit!”

Hard and ridged with pulsating veins, his cock hung heavy and low between his thick thighs. He was not only huge but girthy too, the sight of his diameter making your tiny sleek pang with both want and fright, uncertain of how he was going to fit inside. 

“I…” You gulped, “I’ve never seen one this big before, don’t know if I can take you…”

“Promise to go slow,” he retorted, his fingers wrapping around his erection and running a single wet finger over the terrain, “besides, there is no can’t, there is only want.”

The thought of having him penetrate you made you feel as if you were a virgin on her first night. Excitement and anxiety made your tremble, both emotions battling for control, in which by nature only one triumphed - the sinful, hell-sent lust. With his hand around your neck, he leaned you back on the examination bed and pushed between your welcoming thighs. 

Overcome with arrogance he took his time teasing, prolonging the moment by a wide smile and poking the dripping head of his cock at the supple skin of your inner thigh. Tiny drops of precum smeared onto your flesh, leaving a sticky trail that made your legs jolt in the air helplessly.

“I’m going to fuck you like an animal.”

Air shook between your quivering, gaping lips and you whimpered with another nod, swallowing hard as he moved further between your legs, the bulbous crown now stroking against your swollen clit. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for me, and take me all the way in.”

“Coach Syv…”

Your whiny words sliced into a deep cry of shock as he entered you by surprise. Inch by inch, driving into your squeezing cunt as if it was a juicy fruit being torn apart. His guttural groan made your chest clench with despair, his overwhelmed voice mimicking the astonishment of sinking his throbbing, meaty cock into your tight wetness.

“Sweet Jesus,” he grunted in his Texan slur, and all you could think of is that you couldn’t believe Coach Sy’s huge cock was deep inside you.

“Tight little pussy, all of it for me.”

“You’re too deep!” You mewled, biting your lips as you felt as if you couldn’t take him any longer, but he kept going until the large tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you both paused and gasped.

“I’m as deep as I want to be,” he corrected you and shot an imperious gaze into your eyes, his fingers massaging your throat, squeezing lightly as if to comfort you. But you knew it meant to put you in place as if you were under his command.

The Captain never left the military.

“Those boys can never fuck you like I do,” Sy rasped breathlessly, feeling the pressure of your walls choking around his cock. He allowed them to force him out, dragging his length out along your taut velvet until nothing but his tip remained between your wet lips.

Mouth agape, your eyes stared into his with shock. He never gave you a chance to adjust to his sheer size, yet your body already begged for him to plunge into you again. The throbbing within you was defying, and the sight on his face made you feel like a weak, owned little thing. Holding both your neck and your cunt in detention, Sy had full control over your body. And he only proceeded when he saw fit. 

You didn’t have to beg as the moment you tried to speak he broke into you again, pushing slightly harder, despite the slim space within you. Once again his thick cock parted through your veils and slammed to the brim before parting away, pulling exceptionally slow only to repay you with a fiercer rhythm.

Cries sputtered from your clutched throat, and your swinging legs spread wider to let him further in. Leaning on one elbow while your other hand pressed into his muscular chest, you watched as he rocked from above like an earnest soldier. In and out, rough and furious, soon he hammered you so vigorously the bed bounced underneath, producing stringy, metallic sounds, which were nothing in comparison to the chant of your wet pussy being defiled by his massive cock. 

Thick and warm, the sweet honey of your elixir dripped around his cock, slipping down at the slope of your rear and defiling the hard leather mattress. Baffled to how he even felt inside, you screamed and ached with every jerk of his hips, and the slam of his big cock inside you made stars burst behind your eyes. Within your lower belly, the tidal spasms began to overflow, sweeping back and forth at the command of his punishing rhythm. 

“You like my big cock destroying your sweet little cunt, girl?” He grunted incoherently to which you answered “Yes,” meekly, followed by a peal of mewls. 

He was right, no one fucked you like this before-feral and vigorous like a touch starved animal. Yet he knew every move and every spot, bringing you to new heights of ecstasy. Your climax was inevitable, unstoppable like a crushing ocean as he stood up straight and rutted you like a machine. 

White waves washed through your body, your cunt trembled and wrapped tightly around his swelling shaft as the rapture imploded, sending an aftershock of bliss from your core to the very tips of your fingers.

“Coach Syverson!!!” You heard yourself scream as your eyes screwed shut.

Feeling you tighten around him, Sy snapped above you like a bull, pressing you flat down by the neck on the mattress and hammering you with strenuous effort and searing speed. His breath huffed over your face, his growls and grunts making your spine crawl. He moved as if your body was the centre of the universe and he wanted nothing more but plant his seed in it. 

“Do these…. boys… get to… get to come inside you?” he asked breathlessly, “like I’m about to?”

You shook your head and gasped as his fingers nearly crushed your neck. Sy suddenly increased the ardent pace of his thrusts and shouted out, slamming his hips hard into your ass and then grinding in. You felt every ribbon of his hot cum as it filled you, its warmth a pleasant, tender kiss to end a violent dance.

Little droplets of sweat trickled from his nose and landed on your forehead as he hovered huffing above you. The room was now a symphony of breathless, laboured sighs and sharp inhales of air that cracked from both of you.

Sy swallowed loudly and moved back, his lids heavy with exhaustion while his face glistened with sweat. Still tucked and twitching inside you, he gave you a look that was clear as day. 

This was the worst mistake you both ever made.

“Alright?” he asked, releasing your neck and moving a sticky strand of hair from your forehead.

You nodded silently and then moaned as he slowly pulled away and slipped out from the filthy mess that was between your legs. He was big even coming out half soft.

Shooting a hand between your legs, you quickly fixed your underwear in place and sat up. Every nerve and muscle jolted in shock, your skin feeling as if a thousand little ants travelled onto your body. The silence was harrowing as both of you attempted to adjust, yet being the one of authority and responsibility in the room he knew he had to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, looking at you guilt-ridden as you climbed off the bed and straightened your skirt. You had to swallow a moan as you felt his semen coat the damp fabric of your panties. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, but you understand this can’t happen again?” He asked, trying to sound as gentle and soft-spoken as he could while tilting his head to look at you. “We’ll get into trouble if this ever comes out…”

“I understand,” you answered and gave him a weak smile, “don’t worry, it won’t.”

Coach Sy smiled back at you kindly, and then reached his hand to your chin, squeezing it as lightly as he could which was nothing but gentle. As your eyes collided into a long, intimate stare, you both knew what was distinguishably undisclosed.

This **was** going to happen again. And again. And again. 


End file.
